


WASP-ing it Out for Easter? Want to Play Some Polo? Read On...

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: Craigslist AU [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, WASP Wards, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 12:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3691710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Craigslist AU.  In which Skye gets involved in the WASPiest of all Ward traditions, meets Gramsy, has brunch, and has sex with her boyfriend in a the bathroom at a country club.  Fun is had by all.  Probably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	WASP-ing it Out for Easter? Want to Play Some Polo? Read On...

“That’s not going to do, Grant.”

Skye looks up from her purse to see Mother Ward tucking her dark hair under her actual, real-life fascinator.Skye thought people only wore those in the movies.Or in like, England.

Grant hides his sigh.“What won’t do, Mother?”

Her glance flickers to Skye.“That outfit.”

Skye bristles.Mother Ward’s never been kind to her, but she’s also never played fashion police.“This is the nicest dress I own,” Skye says.“What’s wrong with it?”

“Well for one,” Mother says.“It’s too short.”

“It’s also,” Skye says, trailing off.“The um.Longest dress I own.”

“You couldn’t have gotten her something before today, Grant?” Mother Ward asks.“Do they not pay you well enough?”

“I think she looks beautiful, Mother,” Grant says.There’s a sharp edge to his tone that Skye takes as a challenge.

The cold glint in Mother Ward’s eyes tells Skye very clearly that she is Not. Amused.“Skye, you have to understand,” she says.“The Wards have a very specific... image to maintain on Easter.”

“Here we go,” Grant says.“Mother, spare her.”

Mother Ward ignores him.“We only wear Ralph Lauren on Easter,” Mother says.“If one of the families catches wind that we didn’t-”She shakes her head. “Why, it could get back to Ralph himself.”

“Dear God,” Skye says, mostly being sarcastic.“Ralph himself.”

“So you can see,” Mother says, gesturing with one manicured hand to Skye’s dress.“Why this won’t do.”

“Well,” Skye says.“I mean, I don’t-”

“Why don’t you call Ralph then, Mother?” Grant snaps.His hands find Skye’s shoulders.“See if he can’t fit Skye at the last minute.”

“Grant,” she says.“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“So you can inconvenience Skye,” Grant says.“But not your good, good friend?”

Mother Ward looks as though she’s either going to disappear in a cloud of smoke or banish Grant to the Netherealm.Skye isn’t quite sure yet.“Rose had a wide selection of dresses to chose from this year,” she says.“Skye, you’re thin.”

“Thank you?” Skye says.She leans back into Grant’s touch without meaning too.It just feels safer that way.

“Go take one of the dresses Rose didn’t want,” she says.“Be back down here in five minutes.We have to take pictures.”

“Pictures?” Skye says.

“Grant,” Mother says.“Did you really think you’d just get to waltz in here and ignore tradition?”

Grant tightens his grip on Skye’s shoulders.“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mother.”

She pulls her lips into what Skye can only assume is a smile.Maybe.Or a grimace.“Good boy.”

“Come on, Skye,” Grant says.He’s tugging her out of the foyer, towards the stairs.“I’ll help you pick.”

 

 

“These dresses are all pink,” Skye says.Light pink, darker pink, fuchsia.“Why is there so much pink?”

“Because everyone thinks it’s cute to make plays on Rose’s name,” Grant says.Picks up a few dresses and tosses them onto the bed.“Doesn’t matter that she’s sixteen years old and perfectly capable of picking a dress for herself.Mother has to-”

“Grant,” Skye says.“Something you want to get off your chest?”

He runs a nervous hand through his hair.“Easter is a big holiday,” Grant says.“For us.”

“Well,” Skye says.“It’s a big holiday for most Christians.”

“Not like that,” Grant says.“We go to Mass, yeah, but not for the sermon.It’s the big Ward family tradition.Go to Mass and sit in the front row.And then go to brunch at the country club and then stay for the polo match afterwards.”

“Holy shit,” Skye says.“That is the richest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I should’ve told you,” Grant says.“And I would have gotten you a dress but- I know you don’t like when I do that because it makes you feel like you owe me and I’ve told you that you don’t but I get it, I do, and this is so fucking stressful and I’m-”

“Hey,” she says, approaching him with a sway in her step.She gently takes his tie in her hand.“You wanted backup.I get it.And the dress thing is-” She bites her lip.“Personal.I didn’t realize it was going to be an issue.”

“I’m sorry,” Grant says.“But if you make it through today-”

“I’ll prove my worth in the Ward ranks?”Skye says.She traces his bicep with her free hand.

“There’s going to be people watching,” Grant says.“Everyone, actually.”

“They do know we’ve been together for less than a year?” she says.“I mean Jesus.It’s not like I’m your fiancée.”

“You can talk to Anna about it, if you want,” Grant says.“She’ll understand.”

“Anna’s parents are just as rich as yours,” Skye says.“I doubt it’s the same thing.”

“I’ll stay with you the whole time,” Grant says.“No one will get to speak to you like-”

“Your mother just did?” Skye asks.She’s mostly teasing.Mostly.

He looks terribly guilty, though.So she regrets it immediately.“That’s-” He shakes his head.“I’m sorry.She’s terrible.She’s my mother but-”

“If it helps,” Skye says.“I’ve heard worse.”

He meets her gaze.“From who?”

She shakes her head.“Doesn’t matter.” She tugs his tie, and he moves in for the kiss.

He tastes like the chocolate bunny they’d shared in the car.

 

 

\--

“Skye,” Mother Ward says, watching her descend the stairs with Grant.“Would you look at you.”

“She looks lovely, Mother,” Christian says.Oh, good.Christian’s here.Now it’s a party.

“She looked lovely in her other dress,” Grant says.

Skye catches the way Christian’s expression shifts.“Ah.”

“It wasn’t Ralph Lauren,” Mother Ward says.“And besides.That dress fits her beautifully.A bit tight in the bust, but-”

“Feeling a little like a show dog,” Skye says, reaching the bottom step.

“Sorry,” Christian says, surging forward.He takes Skye’s hand, gives her a polite kiss on the cheek.“Happy Easter, Skye.”

“Happy Easter, Senator,” Skye says.

He makes a face.“Honestly?”

“Where’s the Mrs?” Skye says.“Is she ditching you for Easter? The most important holiday of them all?”

“Yes, Christian,” Mother says.“Where is Anna?”

Christian mouths ‘clever,’ at Skye, and she can only give him a happy little swish of her hair.

“She’s in the car, Mother,” Christian says.“Getting Rosie’s easter basket out of the backseat.I mean really, I just got here and the first thing you ask is if my wife left me again.”

Mother Ward is unamused.In other news, Skye assumes, water is wet.

“I found you a pair of shoes,” Mother says, handing Skye a pair of patent tan pumps.“They’re Manolos.I’ve had them for years and just remembered.”

Skye takes the shoes carefully.In case this turns out to be a trick and the shoes turn to snakes the second she touches them, or something.“You’re lending me your shoes?”

“That’s oddly kind of you, Mother,” Christian says.

She doesn’t smile.“Well, her current shoes don’t match that lovely dress.”

“Ah,” Grant and Christian say, at the exact same time.Like they were expecting it.

Skye slips off her shoes, puts on Mother Ward’s real-life, actual Manolo Blahnik pumps.

They pinch her toes.Of course.She smiles.“They’re great.”She tries to wiggle her toes.Make some room.It doesn’t help.“Do I get a fancy hat, too?”

“Oh, no,” Mother Ward says.“Only the matriarch wears the fascinator.”

“Of course,” Skye says.

“Well,” Grant says.“If you’re taking Skye off the chopping block-”

“Oh, Grant,” Mother Ward says.“Must you be so dramatic?”

Skye notes the tic in Grant’s jaw.“Is it time for pictures, Mother?”

“Of course it is, Grant,” Mother says, with a brisk, condescending smile.“If you will?”

Grant takes Skye’s arm.“Just don’t stop smiling,” he says, and she’s not really sure what that means.But before she can properly ask, they’re already filing out the door.

 

 

The car pulls up as the cameraman is configuring his flash.And Skye figures it’s just another set of cameramen, or maybe the governor of Massachusetts.Something totally normal like that.

Until she hears the sharp whisper behind her.

“You didn’t tell me she’d be here!” Mother Ward snaps.

“She didn’t call!” Father Ward protests.“You know how she likes surprises.”

Skye looks up at Grant.“Something I should know?”

For the first time since they’d arrived, Grant’s got his smile back.At least, part of it.He gently squeezes Skye’s hand.“My grandmother’s here.”

“Gramsy!” Rose says, tugging on Thomas’ sleeve.“Gramsy made it!”

“Rose, dear,” Mother says.“Did you ask your grandmother to come to Easter?”

“Uh-huh!” Rose says, proudly.“She’s feeling much better.She didn’t want to come, at first.But I really wanted her to!”

“Well,” Grant says, quietly.Just to Skye and himself.“Imagine that.”

“Oh,” Mother says.“How nice of you, Rose.”

Rose beams as the car pulls to a stop.The driver gets out.Opens the backseat door. 

Out comes the tiniest old lady Skye’s probably ever seen, with a very fancy hat.

She’d never really thought about Grant having grandparents.She figures he did, most people that aren’t her do, but she’d just never pictured them.

If she had, though, this is exactly what his grandmother would look like.

The driver goes to the other side of the car, and takes out an easter basket that must be the size of Gramsy herself.Then he quickly comes back to Gramsy’s side, lets her rest on him as she ambles to the front steps.

Mother Ward comes down the stairs, smiling more politely than Skye’s ever seen her.“Delia,” she says, voice dripping in sweetness.“Rose didn’t tell us you were coming.We thought you were still under the weather.”

“I’m fine,” she says, with a wave of her hand.“Never better.”She studies the people on the stairs before her, and grins.“Besides.I needed to see my grandchildren.”

“Of course,” Mother Ward says.

“Come on,” Gramsy says.“Photographer’s still setting up.Come give your grandmother a hug.”

Rose is first, bounding off the bottom step.She’s gentle with her grandmother, wrapping her arms around Gramsy’s slender shoulders and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Skye follows Grant off their step, onto the driveway.“I thought your grandmother would be like, you know,” she says.“Your mother.”

“But worse?” Grant asks.

“Yes,” Skye says.“Maybe an actual vampire, instead of just a half-vampire.”

Grant pauses.Places his hand over his mouth and laughs.“Oh my God,” he says.

“Grant Douglas,” Gramsy says, as Thomas finishes complimenting her hat.“You better not be keeping that lovely girl all to yourself.”

“Of course not,” Grant says.“Gramsy, this is Skye.My girlfriend.”

Gramsy takes Skye’s hands in hers.Kisses both of Skye’s cheeks.Skye gets a moment to note that Gramsy smells like expensive perfume, and that she’s wearing possibly the largest diamond ring Skye’s ever seen.

“My boys pick the prettiest girls,” Gramsy says.“And the smartest.Sometimes too smart,” she says.She winks over Skye’s shoulder, to where Skye can only assume Christian is standing.“But she came back, right Christian?”

“Gramsy!” Christian says, indignant.Skye still steps aside so that he can stoop down to hug his tiny grandmother.“She’s right here.”

“Hello, Delia,” Anna says.

“My second favorite grandchild,” Gramsy says.“Come here.”

Anna also gets the kiss on the cheek treatment.Skye supposes this should make her feel flattered or welcomed or something, but this whole thing just feels kind of surreal.Rich people are weird.

“You came in times for photos, Delia,” Mother Ward says.Skye almost wonders where she went, until she notices that the fascinator is gone.

“You took off that lovely hat,” Gramsy says.

“Well,” Mother Ward says.“Tradition is tradition.”

“I suppose it is,” Gramsy says.She smiles.Looks up at Christian, and quickly wipes at his cheek.

Christian grumbles in discontent.

“Come on,” Gramsy says.“You need to look the best for the photo.What would the constituents think if you had lipstick on your cheek?”

“It’s your lipstick!” Christian says.

“Always something with you,” Gramsy says.She pinches Christian’s cheek, for good measure.Then casually pats his face, like he’s not 6’2” and a full-grown man.

She’s trying her hardest not to burst into laughter. A glance at Thomas confirms she’s not the only one.

“Come on, kids,” Gramsy says.“Let’s remind the people who they’re voting for.”

 

 

\--

By some Easter miracle, Skye makes it all the way through Mass.Just like Grant had said, they sit in the very front, and everyone in the church watches them the entire time.

When she was little, the nuns would say that God could see her misbehaving in church.Like that was supposed to make her behave.

They should’ve just told her that 150 judgmental WASPs would be not-so-secretly watching her every move.That’s way more intimidating.No offense to the big guy.

The good news is that she knows all the prayers.Turns out the nuns actually did get her to memorize something.Once.

The bad news is that Grant gives her the funniest looks throughout the service.Like he’s wondering how she knows all the material when she’s never brought it up before.

By the end of the service, she pretends not to know the final song.She does, of course.But she doesn’t want Grant asking any questions.Especially not today, when she’s apparently pretending to be the debutante she’d never actually wanted to be.

She’s got this sinking feeling that nobody’s fooled.

She just wants to get to brunch.

Which, incidentally, is not something she thought she’d ever say to herself.

 

 

\--

Skye regrets wanting brunch the minute she steps foot inside the country club.It’s exactly as chichi as she’d feared, with an actual chandelier and carpet that just feels expensive.And that’s not even the worst part.

The worst part is that the traditional “Ward table” is all the way in the back of the dining room.Because of course the Ward family has their own table.And of course Skye has to parade through the entire dining room to get to it.

“Don’t worry,” Grant says, through his saccharine, polite grin.“Just keep smiling.”

“This is fucking terrifying,” Skye says back.She hopes her smile doesn’t make it look like she’s being tortured.She feels like it might. 

“You’re doing great,” he says.

Sitting feels like a blessing and a half.She’s between Grant and Thomas, facing the window.Gramsy is at the head of the table with Christian at her right.  

And right over Gramsy’s head is the portrait of some old white guy.Which is normal, Skye assumes.For a country club.

“That’s our great, great grandfather,” Grant whispers to Skye, as the menus are passed around.“Maynard Christian Ward.The First.”

Skye blinks.“Oh.”She turns her gaze down to her menu, and hopes that will offer her something less complicated.

She has never seen so many types of crabcakes.Dear God.

“Do you want me to order for you?” Grant asks, gently stroking her thigh under the table.“I know this is a lot.”

Skye swallows.“Do you think you should order for me?”

Grant pauses.Like she’s shocked him.And she probably has.She was probably supposed to tell him to shove it. She could take care of herself.

But she’s not sure what to do right now.She’s not sure if WASP Skye tells people to shove it.

She glances at the portrait again.

Maynard Christian I is definitely judging her.Or checking out her boobs.Kind of like the other Maynard Christians always do, actually.

Grant’s stroking her leg again.Which is nice.At least he hasn’t thrown her to the wolves, or anything.Not that she thinks he would.Right?Right.Grant wouldn’t.He cares about her too much.

But that’s another worry for another day.

“What does fois gras taste like?” Skye asks, studying the menu.

“Do you like goose liver?” Thomas asks.

Skye wrinkles her nose.“What does that have to do with anything?”

“That’s what fois gras is,” Grant says.“Goose liver.”

“In a paste form,” Thomas says.

“Oh my God,” Skye says.“Never mind.”She can do this.Does WASP Skye eat carbs?This is getting complicated.“How’s the french toast?”

“Good!” Grant says.“They have pumpkin pancakes in the fall that I really like, but they change the menu for spring.”

“Could I just get like,” Skye says.“A grilled cheese sandwich?”

“If you wanted,” Grant says.“I’m sure we could get you one.”

“No, that’s-” Skye shakes her head.“I don’t want to be difficult.”

“Okay,” Grant says.Squeezes her knee.“Whatever you want, okay?”

“Alright,” Skye says.“Okay.”

 

 

By the time the waiter arrives, Skye is almost positive she’s either going to get a croque-monsier or the french toast.One of those has to be the right option, right?

The waiter is smart enough to take everyone else’s order first, while Skye keeps her nose buried in her menu.Maybe he’ll just forget she’s here.That would be nice.

She’d be hungry, but she can always go get a burger later.

“And you?” he asks, suddenly at her side.The entire table is staring at her.The entire dining room, too.All waiting to see what she orders.

What does french toast say about her as a person?

“Oh,” Gramsy says, suddenly.“She’ll have a cup of black tea.And a grilled cheese.”

Skye looks up to see Gramsy smiling sweetly at the waiter.“What kind of cheese, Miss?” he asks.

Grant nudges her back into reality.

“Um,” Skye says.“American.On um, white bread.If you have it.”

Mother Ward frowns.“I don’t think-”

“You know what?” Gramsy says.“Change my order.I’ll have the same.”

The waiter scribbles onto his notepad.“Of course.”

“And fries,” Gramsy decides.“For the table.”

“Mother,” Father Ward says, in a rare speaking moment.“Aren’t fries bad for your heart?”

“My heart’s fine,” Gramsy says.“Besides.The kids will eat most of them.Right?”

They all nod.It’s the most unified Skye’s ever seen them.

“I am on a diet,” Christian adds.“But-”

“You look fine,” Gramsy says.“Besides.No one’s voting for you based on how you look in a bikini.”

The idea of Christian in a bikini is enough to make Skye laugh out loud.Which makes Rose laugh, and then everyone is giggling and Christian is bright red.

Skye feels better than she has in hours.

 

 

She listens to idle smalltalk for the next fifteen minutes, and she’s really doing pretty well with the whole thing.She drinks her tea and crosses her ankles and holds Grant’s hand.She’s just the loveliest little society lady there’s ever been.

Which is when the most important thought of the day hits her right in the center ofher brain.

“Oh my God,” Skye says.She gently puts her teacup back on the saucer.Becomes aware that the entire table is looking at her.“So, that’s Maynard Christian I, right?”She gestures to the painting.

“It is,” Mother Ward says.“He was one of the club’s founding members.”

“Okay but that’s beside the point,” Skye says.“The real point is if he’s Grant’s great, great grandfather, that means that you-” She points an accusatory finger at Christian.“Are Senator Maynard Christian Ward.The Fifth.”

Thomas laughs first.Loud enough that Mother Ward glares at him.

“I am,” Christian says, puffing his chest out a little.“What of it?”

“Oh, nothing,” Skye says, sweetly.“It’s just the most ridiculous thing that I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not ridiculous!” Christian says.“It’s perfectly respectable.”

“The fucking Fifth,” Thomas manages, before covering his mouth.His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Father is Maynard Christian Ward the Fourth!” Christian protests.“That’s just as bad.”

“There’s just something inherently funnier about the number five,” Skye says. “I don’t know what it is.”

“She’s got a point,” Grant says.

“She does not have a point,” Christian says.

“You’re like a French king, or something,” Skye says.“It’s so fancy.”

“Well,” Gramsy says.“Christian always has been a little on the fancy side.”

“Is that an insult, Gramsy?” Christian asks.

“Only if you want it to be, Christian,” she says.

Skye giggles. “If it makes you feel any better Fiver,” she says.

“I hate that nickname,” Christian says.

“The nuns at St. Agnes named me Mary-Sue Poots,” Skye says.

Thomas practically spits up his water.Which is needed, since the rest of the table goes silent.And Skye feels her stomach drop.She thought it’d be okay.She thought they’d all been joking around.But it was too much at once and she’d mentioned the nuns and-

“Dear God,” Christian says, finally.“That is a terrible name.”

And just like that, she feels so much better.

“I like it,” Grant says.“It’s cute.”

She smiles at him.He grins back, knowing and sure and full of pride.

“Lord knows Mary-Sue Ward sounds better than Skye Ward,” Mother Ward says.

“Why Mother,” Thomas says, leaning forward.“Are you saying you want Grant to marry Skye?”

Mother Ward straightens in her seat.“I said no such-”

“My name has Mary in it too!” Rose says, happily.“Rosemary Delia Ward.”

“That’s such a pretty name!” Skye says.“And we match!”

“We do!” Rose says.

“I like Skye,” Gramsy says.“Suits you better.”

Skye feels her cheeks get hot.She’s not sure why.Too much positive attention at once?“Thank you.”

“I can’t believe you’d tell me that,” Christian says.“I can’t believe you would make fun of Maynard when you’re dealing with Poots.”

“I changed my name,” Skye says.

“So did I!” Christian retorts.

“You were both just lucky, then,” Anna says.“That you got such great names.”

“Whatever you say, Anastasia dear,” Christian says.

She faux gasps.“Maynard Ward,” she says.“I told you never to call me that.”

He smiles at her.“But it’s such a great name, Anastasia. Dear.”

Everyone in the dining room must be wondering why the Wards are laughing so much.

Skye really couldn’t care less.

 

 

\--

“Okay,” Skye says, as they wander out to the green.“I’m not even going to pretend how polo is played.”

“It’s simple, really,” Christian says.“You just-”

“Christian used to play polo,” Anna says, linking her arm through his.“He wasn’t very good, though.So he quit.”

“That’s not why I quit!” Christian says.“I was wanted on another sports team.”

Skye snickers.“What team?”

“Fencing,” Christian says.Reddens as Skye laughs.“Fencing has a rich history, and a deep-”

“I just played lacrosse,” Grant says.“I don’t know why you had to get all fancy, Fiver.”

“I hate that nickname,” Christian says.

“Well,” Thomas adds.“You’re stuck with it.”

Christian bristles.“This family is despicable.”

“Says the politician,” Skye says.

“Fair point,” Gramsy adds, as she teeters along.She’s using Christian’s other arm to steady herself.

Christian just shakes his head.“I’m nothing but honorable.”

“Anna?” Skye asks.

“Oh, I didn’t leave him for cheating,” Anna says.“I left him because I thought he didn’t love me.”

“Anna!” Christian says, scandalized.“At the polo match?”

“Oh, don’t worry sweetie,” Gramsy says.“Everyone’s still going to think you cheated.”

 

 

\--

They’re somewhere in the first match or round or quarter of the game when Grant wraps his arm around her shoulder.

“Do you want a tour of the grounds?” he whispers.“I can show you the stables and the tennis court and-”

“I will do anything that isn’t polo,” Skye says.“I still have no idea what’s going on.”

Grant smiles at her.Lets out a small laugh.

She hasn’t gotten to properly appreciate how handsome he is today.And he really is.Even if he looks like he’s stepped out of the WASP handbook, with his tailored clothes and charming smile.He smells like sandalwood and springtime, and the trees are all blooming and the sun’s shining behind his head.

“Yeah,” Skye says, quietly.“Let’s go on a tour.”

She thinks that it’s kind of weird that how big the country club ends up being.On top of the polo field, there’s a couple of golf courses.According to Grant, they’re part of a larger 18-hole course spread out over the area.

Because of course they are.

There’s tennis courts, and a pool back by the clubhouse, and then a smaller clubhouse out by the stables.

“For people who keep the horses,” Grant explains.He’s held her hand the entire time.Like he’s her magical guide in this world of the stuff rich people do on private property.

“Oh,” Skye says.“Do you have a horse?”

He shrugs.“The family has a few,” he says.“Do you want to meet them?”

Of course he has horses.Of course he has unlimited access to the fanciest place Skye’s ever set foot in.He can just trapeze around like it’s no big deal.Who cares if they get caught?His great, great grandaddy built the place.

She’s out of her element, here.

 

 

\--

“This,” Grant says, gesturing to a lovely brown horse.She reaches out when Grant comes near, pressing her enormous nose against his hand.“Is Tulula.”

“That’s quite a name for a horse,” Skye says.She notices that all the other horses around have begun to whinny.Like they’re waiting for Grant to pay attention to them.

“Sorry,” Grant says, giving Skye a sheepish grin.“I used to ride a lot more.But then I got the new job and you moved in and-”

“You could go horseback riding,” Skye says.“I mean, you obviously get along well with the horses.”She strokes Tulula’s soft snout, and is rewarded by being sneezed on.

“Aw, she likes you,” Grant says.“And also, it’s not like they’re being ignored.Rosie comes down her a lot.Don’t tell the others, but Starlight,” he reaches over to pet a white-grey horse with a braided mane.“Is Rosie’s favorite.”

Skye gives Starlight a polite nod.“It’s nice to meet you.”

“And this is Stormy,” Grant says, moving over to the next horse.The black horse gives Skye a wary gaze.“He’s a little shy, though, so don’t mind him.”

Skye takes that as a sign to stay firmly between Starlight and Tulula.Because they like her just plenty. 

This is so weird to her.She’s never even known anyone that could ride a horse, let alone who owns three of them.

And it’s kind of hard to separate the Grant that sleeps beside her and the Grant whose brother is a senator.

She’s not sure if she actually can separate them.Maybe she shouldn’t.Maybe they’re the same.

 

 

“You know,” Skye says, patting Starlight on the head.“You have so much of... everything.”

Grant pauses.“I don’t-”Looks down at her.“I didn’t mean to come across as bragging.”

“That’s the thing,” Skye says.“You’re not bragging.You’re fine.This is just where you live.”

“Not all the time,” he says.“Just when I’m with my parents.It’s their world, really.”

“You wouldn’t be able to live without it, though.”

He frowns.“I could if I needed to,” he says.“If I wanted to.”

“Even I’m just,” she gestures at herself.“You hired me off the internet as a joke.As some kind of rebellion that really wasn’t that bad at all.”

“Skye,” he says.“You’re- You are way more than that.You know that, don’t you?”

“I’ve just felt weird the whole day,” Skye says.“I don’t belong here.”

Grant drops his hand off Stormy’s head.Wraps Skye into his arms, before she can fully resister it.

She looks up at him.At his beautiful, kind face.“Grant-”

“It doesn’t matter to me where you were born,” Grant says, firmly.He’s staring down at her with enough intensity to make her knees weak.“If your parents were billionaires-”

“Or dead?” Skye offers.

He shakes his head.“The only thing I will ever care about is your happiness,” Grant says.“If this really makes you uncomfortable, we can leave.And I’ll never look back.”

“Leave the club?” Skye asks.“Or leave-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Grant says. 

“It does matter,” Skye says.“That’s your family, Grant.I see how close you are with them.”

“But I love you, Skye,” Grant says.“And I need to start putting that first.”

 

 

If the world had stopped spinning at that very moment, she wouldn’t have noticed.If it had stopped and sent everyone hurtling through the air to their doom, she would have had no idea.

Because he’s said it before when he’s half awake and sometimes after sex but it’s always been quiet.And sweet.And it’s felt like he’s been saying it because he’s trying to be nice, like he think’s he’s supposed to say it to her.

But this is.Dramatic.And declarative.And her throat is tight and he’s looking at her with such conviction and, and-

This was supposed to be a one time joke thing.

She should just say it.She should just say it because it’s mostly true and she cannot, under any circumstances, break Grant’s fragile, gentle heart.

“I love you, too,” Skye says.Tilts her chin up.“I love you, Grant Ward.”

He kisses her.Hard.Hard enough that her nose is smushed against his and shefeels like he’s taking the wind out of her lungs.

 

 

She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses back.Until she’s sure she’ll bruise his lips.He’s so pale and his lips are so soft and she takes when she kisses him.When she drags her teeth over his lower lip and he growls in the back of his throat.

His hand drags along her hip.Squeezes her ass through the cotton of her dress.

Her fancy, elegant dress.

“I want to fuck you,” Skye says, scraping her nails across the back of his neck.“Right here.”

“In the stable?” Grant says.“Because there’s a bathroom in the clubhouse.And I think that would be more comfortable.”

Skye nips his ear.“Fair,” she says.

He laughs.  Grabs her wrist as the rush out of the stables.

 

 

There’s someone in the clubhouse, behind the desk, as they run for the bathrooms.

They start to say something to Grant, but Skye doesn’t hear them.She doubts Grant does, either.

All that means is someone knows that she and Grant are having sex in the bathroom.That everyone is going to be totally right about Skye, and Grant, and the Wards.

She’s not sure if that’s true.She has no idea what everyone thinks of the Wards.But she’s almost positive everyone thinks she’s a gold-digging whore.

But Grant doesn’t.Right?

He lock the door behind them, and he’s on her again, pressing her flush against the bathroom wall.Pinning her wrist over her head with his hand.Nipping at her collarbone, her throat, her jaw, until his lips are over hers again.

He jams his leg between her thighs.Remembers to gently pull the skirt of her dress out from under her, so it fans across him.

She grinds down onto his leg.“Bend me over the counter,” she says.“If we’re doing this, we’re gonna do this right.”

Grant responds with a kiss.Drags her lower lip between his teeth.“What’s right?” he asks.“This feels pretty right.”

“But like,” Skye says.“You’re banging your Craiglist girlfriend at a country club.Shouldn’t you be filthy about it?”

“First of all,” Grant says.“You’re not my Craigslist girlfriend.You’re my beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, and I love you.”

Skye hopes he can’t hear the way her heart thumps at that one.

“And second,” Grant says, reaching to tug at her hair.“Only if you want me to be.”

“I do,” she says.“I really, really do.”

 

 

He bends her over the counter, just like she asked.Drops to his knees as he rolls down her underwear.And of course, proceeds to bury his head beneath her skirt.

She studies the way her face looks when Grant’s tongue is in her.She does this thing where she kind of closes her eyes.Where she wrinkles her nose and clenches her fists.Like she’s angry that he’s eating her out, but really, it just feels so, so good that she has no idea what else to do.

Then, he swaps his tongue for his thumb, and she curls her toes.Or attempts to, but can’t in her heels.But she doesn’t mind, because when he twists his thumb her eyes go wide and her chest heaves and he swirls his tongue on her clit and his hand is in her and he’s fucking her on it and Oh, God-

She wrenches her eyes shut and comes on his face.His handsome, earnest face.

He gives her butt a content little pat as he rises back to his feet.Unbuckles his belt and slides his pants down to his ankles.

Presses himself against her, with nothing but the fabric of his underwear to keep him from her.

 

 

“Condom?” Grant asks.

“You know I’m on the pill,” Skye says, surprised at the hoarseness in her own voice.She kind of remembers screaming out “Grant,” and “Fuck,” a few times.Which makes sense.“Besides,” she continues.“Not like you’ve wrapped it up the last few times.”

“Yeah,” Grant says.“But I also like to check.”

“Just put it in me,” Skye says.Wriggles against him.“God.”

He smiles at her.She watches his reflection pull his boxers down.She can’t see him past his navel, where she’s bent over.She can watch him watch her, though.

She can study the focus in his features.Something that looks kind of like awe as he slides his hand gently up her back.And when he grabs her hip, he bites his lip in concentration.In concern.Like he’s so afraid he’ll hurt her.

And then he’s inside her, and she’s never seen him look so... relieved.Content.It’s pretty flattering, actually.

“I love you,” Skye says.If only because he’s been saying the same thing this whole time.Not out loud.But she can see it in his gaze, in his movements.

How much she means to him.How much he cares.

He almost looks surprised.Like he expected her to say it once, if that, and never again.But surprise gives way to affection, to a sweetness that makes her feel kind of giddy and kind of nervous all at the same time.

No one’s ever trusted her this much before.

“I love you, too,” Grant says.

She breaks eye contact with the mirror.Shuts her eyes and throws her head back.“Prove it, then.”

He moves.Roughly enough that she knows he’s been paying attention.

She smiles.And for the moment, she trusts his touch and his hands.

She doesn’t know how long they’re in there for.Or how many times she yells his name, or if there are people waiting for them outside the bathroom.They may still be playing polo out there.She couldn’t care less.

What she does know is that right before he comes, right before they both do, she slips a peek at the mirror again.

She watches them fall apart together.Watches him rest on top of her as he comes in her.

It’s messy and sweaty and they look absolutely ridiculous.

And the bathroom is too fancy and her dress doesn’t fit right and her shoes are uncomfortable as hell.

But he looks so content, resting his cheek against her back.

And that’s pretty fucking beautiful.

 

 


End file.
